His Virgin Bride: A Fake Marriage Romance

by Kara Hart

  I pull back against her lips and smile. “My baby,” I say.

  “Yes,” she moans. “Say it again.”

  “My baby girl,” I tell her.

  Her breathing quickens once more. Her pussy is fucking soaking wet, dripping onto my expensive bed sheets. What do I care? She can ruin this house if she wants to. I’m just here for the ride, trying to hold on as long as I can, but failing.

  I pull my cock out and spin her body around. She pushes herself onto her knees and arches her back, almost as if her actions are triggered by a sense of pride for herself. This, of course, turns me on even more. A woman with agency? It’s just something I admire, wholly, but also something I want to take advantage of.

  I ride the line. I hold her waist in place. Her perfume travels all across the room. Fruit, flowers, and everything beautiful. I go crazy on her, yet I’m slow and deep about things. I kiss her neck and we mumble directions to one another. “Just like that,” she moans. “Nice and slow. I want to feel you cum.”

  She can feel me any day that she wants. I’ll be her master if that’s what it comes down to. I’ll show her things she’s never even dreamed of.

  My hips move to an unshakeable rhythm, locking in place with her at the end of each movement. She begins to understand the dance all too well. She moves in tandem, pushing that pussy back, over my shaft. “Fuck,” I find myself whispering. I can’t take it. She feels too fucking good.

  I feel that familiar and all too telling sign. It starts below my balls, right inside the core of my very fucking being. It grows like an incoming vibratory spasm. I can feel it swell up inside of me. It’s going to make itself known. I’m going to fucking cum.

  It moves upward and expands, until I can’t take it anymore. It’s like sensory fucking overload with this woman. Right when you get to the edge, you start to think you might not be able to come back from this. You scramble to take in all you can. You feel her body and taste her skin. You kiss every single neglected area. Then there’s the lull, where you feel as if time has begun to shift, or stop. Things grow distant, but in your mind, everything is calm.

  That’s when you lose yourself to a mind shattering orgasm. Unable to control my muscles, I feel my cock take hold. Whatever it needs, my body will cater to it. I look down at her, so angelic and wonderful, and it just makes the situation even more perfect. I cum way too fucking much. I lose myself over and over again, muscles moving wild. I try to keep myself steady, but of course, I have to fall forward.

  She kisses me as I shoot my cum inside of her. Her tongue moves to the back of my mouth, pushing forward once more. Rhythm. It’s all a sexual rhythm between us. I open my eyes and kiss her back. I taste her. She tastes so perfect, just how she looks. Breathtaking.

  We fall back onto the pillows and we don’t say a word for a good five or ten minutes. We just lay there, panting like wild animals, kissing until our tongues and lips are sore. The room is silent, but outside, the light rustling of the trees can be heard.

  “So, are you staying the night?” I ask her.

  She looks at me like I’m crazy, but I know that’s her defense mechanism to give her time to think about what she wants. She can’t deny that holding one another is one of the best feelings in the world. She won’t even try to argue against that point.

  “I don’t know…” she sighs. “I have class tomorrow. It might be a good idea if I sleep in my own bed tonight.”

  “What time is class?” I ask her.

  “One PM. It’s the class you did your little talk to,” she says.

  “Barry’s lecture? Shit, if he gives you a bad grade, I’ll set him straight. Come on, just stay here. One is late. We can wake up at ten, get breakfast, and I’ll take you right to the door of the lecture hall,” I say.

  “It’s hard to say no to that,” she groans. “Why do you always have good arguments for pursuing bad ideas?”

  “I’m a bad idea?” I laugh. She’s probably right.

  “Yes!” she exclaims. “You make me think about other things when I should be thinking about finals and my future.”

  “The future isn’t as important as they make it out to be,” I mutter. “Just try and have fun. That’s all we can do, really.”

  “Easy for you to say. You make a ton of money. You’ve got a solid career. You can do anything you want now. Somehow, somewhere along the way, you forgot how hard it was when you were my age,” she says.

  “I haven’t forgotten. I’ve just realized how pointless all that stress was. Anyway, it gets harder. Try operating on your dying mother to remove a tumor you thought was benign, only to realize her cancer has accelerated to the point of no return,” I say. “That is hard. Trust me, most people don’t have to go through shit like that. Your final will be fine.”

  I turn my back and close my eyes. Shit, I’ve already said too much.

  Olivia

  “Shit,” I sigh to myself. “Is all of that really true? Did you really—”

  “Yeah,” he interrupts me, and turns back to face me. “My mom is dying. I’m a surgeon. The best there is, or so they always tell me. Yet, even with all of the awards and accolades, I still couldn’t fix my own mother. She doesn’t have much time left. She’s barely even with us now, after the surgery.”

  “It’s not your fault. You can’t put that on yourself,” I try and tell him. But what the fuck do I know about pain that severe? I don’t know shit. Both of my parents are happy, together, and thriving in health. I can’t even begin to comprehend the kind of horror he’s had to experience.

  “Yeah, well. I could have acted earlier. She told me she hadn’t been feeling that well. I brushed it off. Our genetics were good. That’s what I always told myself. No real family history of anything too big. You know, the occasional kidney stone, or heart attack. That was it,” he says. “And then it happened.”

  “I’m so sorry,” I whisper. I kiss his chest and try to empathize and show some compassion.

  “I don’t want to talk about it. It’s just life, you know?” he says.

  That’s when I start to realize just how much is on his plate. He’s right. I have so little to deal with in comparison that it’s hard to even say anything back. All I can do is try and comprehend and offer some support. “I’m here,” I say.

  “I don’t need the pity,” he smiles. “Seriously. I’ve already gotten through the hardest of it. Now, we’re just waiting for the inevitable.”

  “I’m not staying out of pity,” I tell him, honestly. “I’m staying because I want to.”

  I grab the half-empty bottle of wine and take a swig. I hand it to him next. “Let’s finish this before we go to bed,” I say. “I think we both need a good drink or two.”

  “Cheers to that,” he says. He closes his eyes and takes a drink.

  It doesn’t take long for us to finish the bottle. Both our eyes get tired. Soon enough, he’s asleep, but I’m laying in his bed with eyes open. What’s going to happen between us? Are we just fuck buddies now? Is this how this whole thing works? Or does he want more?

  I imagine us dating. I imagine what it would be like to stay here more often, feeling his arms curl around my body. We could have so much. I could figure my life out better with someone like him right now. And maybe, just maybe, I could help him get through his time of pain as well.

  Finally, I close my eyes and fall asleep. In my dream, we’re lovers. We’re together and everything is peaceful. I come home from my appointments as a nutritionist and, at night, he comes home and tells me about his day. The stress is absent. We’re just in love.

  I wake up to the sound of grinding metal and the smell of coffee. I walk into the kitchen and smile. “I seem to remember this, but on the opposite side.”

  “You’re awake!” he smiles. “I thought I’d treat you to the same experience, only with better coffee.”

  “Hey, my coffee is great, buddy,” I reply.

  He throws the grounds into an espresso portafilter and tamps it lightly. He turn
s it into the machine and presses a medium-sized orange button. “Fancy,” I mutter.

  He shrugs. “It was a gift from my father. To be honest, I hardly ever use it,” he says.

  “Sounds about right,” I say. “You’re such a yuppie.”

  “I’m not a yuppie,” he says. Though, judging by the way he’s weighing and eying that shot, I’d definitely call him a spoiled little yuppie. I laugh and shake my head. “Okay, maybe my lifestyle is a little different from how it was in college.”

  “I’m sorry,” I laugh. “You’re fine. It’s kind of my life goal to grow up to be a yuppie, so you’re all good in my book. You’re living the dream.”

  He hands me a shot of espresso and winks. “Cheers,” he says. I look him in the eye and clink my small glass.

  “Cheers,” I reply.

  I check my phone and see the time. “Shit,” he says. “I woke you up a little hate, haven’t I?”

  “A bit,” I mutter, sadly. “It’s almost 11:45.”

  “I know, but I looked at you sleeping so peacefully and I couldn’t just wake you up. You looked so happy,” he says.

  We both finish our espressos and I almost feel like I’m in a foreign country with a forbidden love. Only, I’m just a few miles away from my house and school is calling me back to reality. “Next time we hang out, we’re getting something really nice,” I say. “Like oysters and caviar.”

  He laughs, but I can tell he’s down for anything. “Oysters and caviar, huh. Is that it?” he asks.

  “Of course not,” I smile. “Oysters, caviar, some lobster tail… And then after, you can take me to your favorite posh bar and you can buy me martinis.”

  “You’re such a fancy girl,” he sighs. “I thought you were more down to earth.”

  He places one hand on my hip and pulls me into his body. With the other hand, he caresses the back of my head. “I was a down to earth girl, but then I met you,” I tease. He kisses me. “You corrupted me.”

  “It’s what I do,” he whispers and kisses me again.

  I fall back into him and hug him as he rubs my back. My cheek presses against his naked chest. It feels so domestic. I never liked that feeling before. Right now, however, it somehow feels really good. I open my eyes to the knowing that it’s about to all end. This is just our little fantasy that we’ve started to create. Every fantasy has to end at some point.

  “Let’s go,” I tell him.

  “Okay,” he claps his hands. “Let’s go.” He grabs my ass before running to grab his clothes. I slip my jeans back on and put on my tennis shoes. On the outside, I’m fine. On the inside, I’m sort of saddened that I have to leave. The problem is that we’ve started to share things that are deeper than the surface. I want to hear more about his life and, for some odd reason, I want to share more of his pain. I know that deep down, he’s hiding his real self. The struggle is always a part of the man. You can’t just run away from that.

  We leave the building and he tries to stay chipper and upbeat, but there’s no point. He’s going to work and I’m going to school. “What’re you up to tonight?” he asks, as he pulls up to the University parking lot.

  “I don’t know,” I shrug. “I kind of have to study for finals.”

  “Again?” he asks.

  “This time it’s dire. Tomorrow is my first test. Women’s Studies,” I tell him.

  “Sounds easy enough,” he says.

  “Then you don’t know how complicated women are,” I laugh and step out of the car, swinging my bag over my shoulders. “I’ll call you in a week or something.”

  “A week?” he asks. “You trying to kill me?”

  “You’ll survive!” I shout out to him. I shut the door, wave, and when I’m out of the parking lot, I hike up my jeans high enough to tease him into oblivion.

  Around the corner walks Josie and she nearly tackles me to the ground. I look back over at James, who has already begun to leave the parking lot. Josie’s eyes follow mine. “Oh, man,” she mutters. “Another night with the hot doc?”

  “Yeah. It was nice.” I instantly turn red, so I try to hide my cheeks by looking away.

  “When’s the wedding?” she asks.

  “Shut up,” I tell her. “No wedding. In fact, I’m not going to see him at all this week.”

  “What the fuck? Why?” she asks.

  “Finals. I don’t think I can pay attention to things if I keep hanging out with him,” I say.

  We continue walking through the outdoor hallway on the way to the lecture hall, near the center of the old courtyard. Josie says, “Who cares about paying attention to things? We’re going to graduate. There’s no way we won’t. That’s the main goal, right?”

  “Unfortunately, my parents care about grades and I’m a good girl.” I smile deviously.

  “That’s right, bitch,” she says, slapping my butt. “You’re a good girl, alright.” She winks and makes a gesture that seems to suggest that a cock is in her mouth.

  “You’re seriously so annoying,” I tell her.

  “Come on,” she laughs, “you have to tell me more. Do you like him?”

  “We’ve got five minutes before we have to be in there,” I tell her.

  “Exactly. That’s just enough time. Come on, girl. I want to know more about your life. I thought we were best friends. Don’t keep me on the outside,” she begs.

  “You are my best friend. I’m just not used to all of this,” I tell her.

  It all hits me, right then and there. It takes the breath straight from my lungs. Cut to me sitting in the lecture hall, holding my textbook against my breasts, eyes closed. “Are you okay?” Josie asks me.

  I nod and smile, but I don’t know if I’m okay. I have given away the one thing that was precious to me. I can never get that back. Before this all happened, I was special. I felt like I was the one sheep in the crowd, walking against the current. Now, I’m just like everyone else.

  Everything used to be so different. The doctor is all I worry about now and I don’t even think he’s the one. How can you know, really? And that’s really the dilemma I’ve always faced with this type of choice. You never really know who will let you down. You definitely can’t predict the future. Can anyone really blame me for holding onto this for so long?

  A vibration against my ass sends me squirming. Josie glances over and snickers. “I miss you, baby.” James’s text shines brightly against the darkened room.

  I close my phone and set it on my lap. The professor continues her lecture. “The doctors called it hysteria. The women who couldn’t be controlled by men were deemed insane and unfit to live in society. They removed various sexual organs in order to tame us. Nothing was sacred. They sought to tear us apart for their own personal satisfaction.”

  Josie leans over and whispers, “She goes a little overboard, doesn’t she?”

  “It’s true, Josie. Men have been doing this since the dawn of time. They use us,” I say. I can feel the anger and regret start to creep up inside of me. Resentment wasn’t an emotion I thought I would feel about this whole thing. I thought it was time to grow up. The truth is that I have no fucking clue where I’m supposed to stand now. I’ve got one foot in the air and one foot in the mud.

  “Okay,” Josie rolls her eyes. “Chill out. You’re not being yourself.”

  The professor continues. “Women have slowly gained agency over our lives. Women have gotten the right to vote, the right to a fair wage, and the rights to work in general. Still, to this day, we have to continue to fight back against the patriarchal system we find ourselves in. If we don’t voice our opinions, we may wake up someday, completely stripped of our rights.”

  I don’t know what it is that hits me, but it completely takes me over. “Don’t tell me what I’m being and what I’m not being!” I shout at Josie. Meanwhile, the professor has stopped talking and the whole class has turned towards me. I grab my things and begin the long walk of shame, toward the exit in the back of the room.

  “As you can
see,” the professor chuckles, “this subject matter can hit some of you pretty hard.”

  The door shuts behind me and I find myself collapsing against a nearby concrete pillar. I start bawling my eyes out. I can’t contain any of it. It just comes out. “Fuck him,” I think to myself, but every time I picture his deep, honest eyes and his incredible body, I can’t help but blame only one person: myself. “Fuck me,” are the next words that come from my mouth.

  All in all, it was my decision. I made the choice to give my virginity to him. Was it a bad move? Shit. I don’t even know at this point. That’s why I’m freaking out. What’s worse is that I think I might actually really like the guy. I mean, he’s sweet. He’s kind. He’s funny and motivated, and so damn successful. What is there not to like?

  Thinking about someone every single day is exhausting. It takes your whole body over. It leaves you feeling drained at times. Other times, it just makes you feel so damn happy that you could almost start singing. Liking someone can wreck your whole foundation. That’s why I’m so pissed. I like him, dammit.

  But even when you face the truth, you sometimes have to walk in the other direction. I wipe the tears from my face and pick myself up from the floor. I dust my ass off and sigh heavily, walking to the parking lot. I grab my phone and type out the words: “We shouldn’t see each other anymore.” I leave it at that.

  James

  What the fuck? I read the words on the screen and nearly chuck he phone against the wall. “Fuck!” I scream and fall against my leather chair. Neil, the chief, pops his head in when he hears the commotion.

  “Everything alright, man?” he asks me.

  “Fine. Dandy,” I mutter, biting my tongue.

  He walks inside the room and leans against my bookshelf. I look at him, annoyed that he won’t leave and let me have my anger to myself. “Sure looks like you’re pissed off,” he says. “What’s going on with you? The whole family thing?”